Page 49 of The Bad Boyfriend Curse
“Does she work with you on guitar and vocals?”
“No, just vocals. I go to the music school for guitar. That’s what Jason pays for. Clara plays a little piano, but she’s a trained vocalist. She even has musical theater experience in Toronto.” His eyes shift to a spot behind my shoulder. “There she is. I think she’s done her shift.”
Behind the bar Clara is taking off her apron. She comes to our booth holding a plate with a sandwich on it. “Hi! It’s Meera, right? Nice to meet you.” Her smile is friendly and warm. She looks at Noah. “You mind if I eat before your lesson, Noah? I couldn’t take a break today.”
“Of course not,” Noah says.
She sits next to me. Up close I can see that she’s older, easily over thirty. And she’s even prettier than when I last saw her here with Sadie and Liv.
Noah asks her how her kid is, and soon they’re talking animatedly about Clara’s son, about Donut Den, and about how bored her husband has been since he got home from his last deployment.
“We’re not letting your friend get a word in,” Clara says with a laugh before turning toward me. “Meera, Noah told me you’re a photographer. What do you take pictures of?”
When I tell her Toronto buildings, we end up talking about the old theaters in the city. I like Clara. She’s got an animated, enthusiastic way of talking. She reminds me of the musical theater kids at my high school.
When she’s done with her sandwich, Noah and Clara head to the back room for his music lesson, and I call an Uber to take me home.
At dinner that night Mom and Jason are talking about the LeClair picnic the next day. Mom is freaking out again. Apparently some of the other LeClair executives’ wives were rude to her recently at the club, and she’s worried about having to socialize with them. It sucks that these women were rude to her, but I don’t understand why Mom won’t take her own advice. Whenever I’ve told her that kids were rude to me at school, she’s always said those people don’t matter and to ignore them.
There is one thing about the picnic I want to bring up. “Noah told me that most plant workers don’t bring their families to the picnic. Why does management bring their families?”
Jason looks annoyed at the question for a moment, before his smile returns. “Everyone is welcome to bring their families. No matter what their role is.”
“Okay, but don’t you find it weird that the people who work in the plant don’t want to bring their partners and kids? I mean, Noah’s never been to one of these picnics, and his dad’s worked there for years.”
“Areyoubringing that emo boy as your guest?” Mom asks.
I roll my eyes. “He’s not anemo boy. His name isNoah, and yes, he’s still coming as mydate.” I narrow my eyes at her.
Jason takes another chapatti from the stack on the table. “As the son of a LeClair employee, he’s welcome either way.”
“But if he wasn’t the son of one of your employees, would you forbid me to bring him?” I ask.
“We’re not forbidding anything,” Mom says. “As long as you stay out of trouble and follow our rules. We’re not trying to make living in Cherrybridge a prison for you, Meera.”
Could’ve fooled me.
“Good,” I say. “Noah and I are looking forward to the party.”
“And we’re looking forward to seeing him again,” Mom says. I don’t think she’s looking forward to this party at all.
Noah calls me later that night to ask if he should wear his Crash on Jupiter shirt to the picnic, which I say yes to. I really want to see Jason’s face when he sees the son of Mike Jacobs—his former best friend and bandmate—wearing the logo of the band that broke up because of Jason. Noah then suggests that I emo myself up a little too, and maybe wear some of the clothes I bought at the thrift store. It’s a fantastic idea. I really do love that skirt I bought, and I love the idea ofnotdressing like a respectable politician’s daughter. I grin when I tell him about the new nose ring Kennedy found too.
We talk a bit more about his vocal lesson, and about some harder songs that Clara is helping him with, and I still have goose bumps thinking about his voice when I get off the phone. I’ve got it bad. This is the biggest crush I’ve ever had. And now I know that it’s not exactly unrequited either, based on that almost-kiss at the thrift store. Nothing like that happened between us when we hung out today, but I might be playing with fire here. I’m supposed toneverdate again. Thecurse says I’ll have bad judgment, so does that mean Noah isn’t as sweet and kind as I think he is? Or as good-looking? Or musically talented? How much of my feelings are because of the curse?
I sigh. Even though I know that I’m playing right into the curse’s hands, I honestly don’t think I’m capable of separating myself from Noah now. It’s far too late for that.
On Sunday, Mom and Jason have to be at LeClair Industries early to make sure the picnic is set up properly, so Liv and Sadie drive me to the barbecue. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It could be the outfit; I’ve never dressed like this in my life. I’m wearing my new purple tank with my plaid skirt, and the tank ended up being cropped, so my whole belly button is showing. I’m also wearing the black nose ring. When I put that on, it felt and looked so natural on my face. Like it was meant to be there. Still, I’m kind of expecting Mom to send me home to change when she sees my outfit, even though she’s never policed my clothing in the past.
When we get to LeClair Industries, Noah’s waiting on the curb next to the little grassy space near the parking lot. He stands when he sees me, and my breath hitches in my throat.
He looks… amazing. He’s in his black jeans, and his hair is falling into his eyes like always. And once again he’s lined his dark eyes in eyeliner, which somehow makes them darker and brighter at the same time. I can’t believe I have a thing for guys with eyeliner now. But Noah ticks boxes that I didn’t even know I had.
But there’s something different about Noah today, and ittakes me some time to figure out what it is. It’s his shirt. He’s wearing the Crash on Jupiter shirt like he said he would, and it… fits. Like, not tightly or anything, but enough that you can see his strong arms. So you can tell that he has a long torso. It makes him seem older, less like a kid wearing his older brother’s or father’s clothes and more like a fully grown man.
And it’sdevastatingly hot. I almost want to get him back into an extra-large shirt, because how am I supposed to pay attention to anything but Noah today?
“You look perfect,” I say, coming toward him after Liv parks her car. “I could not have dreamt up a better bad-boy fake boyfriend than you.”
